Dougie Taken!
by imnemocomeandfindme
Summary: It was all a normal day, until Dougie went out alone, and got taken! Held for ransom, will the rest of McFly be able to save him? Involves violence. Hints of Pudd. R&R appreciated, this is my first fic so help me improve!
1. When it happened

Dougie shivers on the doorstep for a second before Harry answers the door, grinning at him.

"You're late, mate! We said four o'clock, not just whenever you fancy coming home!"

"Sorry Harry, but I forgot and then I got lost again! You know what it's like living in a new area; takes a few weeks to adjust..."

Dougie follows Harry through to their music room, where Tom and Danny are already sitting with guitars across their laps, Tom with his tongue between his teeth, scribbling in his song book.

"You really need to remember our song writing appointments Dougie, or I will have to lock the door and take your keys to stop you from going out," Tom says, without looking up.

Dougie grins sheepishly before taking his bass out and plugging it into the amp in the corner.

From then onwards, the next few hours pass as normal in the bandhouse. Danny strums riffs which Dougie layers over, while Tom sucks his pen and writes the lyrics in a battered book. Harry taps some rhythms out on his knees with the others, in between getting beers and making suggestions.

After finishing their second set of lyrics, Tom sets his notebook down onto the table.

"Right guys, that's good enough for today. I suggest we have a lad's night in, with Disney!" All the others groaned, while Tom beamed at them expectantly.

An evening of excessive drinking followed, with jokes and gossip spilling forth, until they noticed that they had run out of beer. Because he was feeling more sober than the others, Dougie offered to go to the off-licence down the road, and pick up some more, while the others agreed and settled to watch the lion king while he was out, to keep Tom pacified.

Walking back, his breath turning to mist in the dark night air, Dougie hunched over with his hands deep in his pockets, a bag of beer bottles dangling from his wrist clinking merrily by his side. As he passed an alleyway off the main street though, he thought he heard someone shuffling around in it. He hesitated, before setting down his bag and calling out, "Is anyone there? Are you hurt?"

There was no answer, but he thought he saw something shifting in the shadows, just behind those bins. Creeping forward, he came to the spot, and found that it was a homeless man, curled up and fast asleep. Dougie smiled, and decided to leave the man a beer for when he woke up. Turning to get one though, he came face to face with someone much taller than he was, with a piece of metal piping in his hands.

"I've been waiting for you Dougie," he grinned, before smashing his hand downwards over Dougie's head. All was darkness.


	2. Not the usual Disney ending

Back in the house, Danny and Harry had both fallen asleep long ago, but Tom had stayed awake for the closing credits, singing softly to himself as the film came to a close. Getting up, he looked around and realised that Dougie still wasn't back. Strange, that was, but the cheeky sod was always picking up women or getting himself into scrapes. He would be back in the morning, with either lipstick marks on his shirt, or mud on his jeans from passing out on the way. It would probably be a good lesson to him either way, Tom smiled to himself as he settled back on the sofa and closed his eyes, letting the alcohol-induced drowsiness take over his body.


	3. Meet the captor

Dougie woke to dim lighting, a terrific headache, and the th-thunk, th-thunk of a rubber ball being bounced against a wall repeatedly. Turning his head gingerly, he saw the same man from the night before in a chair, playing with the ball, until he suddenly stopped and turned to face Dougie.

"Ahhh, you're awake. About time. I have things to do you know, I can't be sitting around here with you all day, waiting."

Dougie moaned, then found his voice and croaked "Why me?"

The man sat up straighter, so that his face came into a slant of light from the only window in the room. He had a big forehead, with bold eyebrows and brown hair cropped close to his head. "Why indeed, Dougie. Well, I knew that it had to be one of you McFly boys, after all you put me through, and you are so popular after all, and also, you are the easiest target out of all of them. Tom wouldn't be so recognisable bless him, he hasn't done any TV really. Harry is enormous, which would make him much, much harder to take down, and he's stubborn as a mule. Danny though, he has a bit of meat on him too, but he doesn't have the same vulnerability, that little-brother-that-needs-protecting factor that you have. You're small, well known, and loveable and I think that I can break you. I should get a nice ransom for you."

So that was what all this was for. Dougie tried sitting up, fighting the nausea building and the way the room seemed to sway whenever he moved his head. As he looked at where his head had been moments before and saw congealed blood staining the floor. 'Must have been from that bash he did to knock me out,' Dougie thought. He struggled to an upright position against the plastered wall, and realised with a flood of panic that his hands were tightly bound together with rough rope. Mouth dry and palms sweaty, he turned his head up to ask the question.

"So what are you going to do now you've got me?"

"Well first I'm going to let everyone get all panicked, which should take about a day, so that we have time to make the headlines. Then I will contact the rest of you boys. Tell them my price for your safety, and wait for the money to land in my lap." The man grinned evilly. "With you though, I don't intend to make your stay here easy. It wouldn't be any fun for me otherwise!"

With that, the taller man stood up, and rolled his shoulders. After looking around, he waved at Dougie, the exited out of the only door in the room, and locking it behind him. Dougie thought he heard a bolt sliding home after him, but he didn't know. As he was alone, he decided he might as well familiarise himself with his new surroundings, as it didn't look like he would be getting out anytime soon. From where he was sitting, he could see that he was in a fairly sized room, with high white plaster walls with mud smears every few feet. The floor he was sitting on looked like underneath the layer of mud and dirt it might have some kind of stone paving, into which was driven an iron post, which he was tied to by his bound wrists. The only window was narrow and set in the wall about twice Dougie's height up, so no luck there. Apart from the post though, there was only a mattress in the corner, and nothing else.

Sighing, Dougie pushed himself up to a standing position, and dragged himself over to the mattress and sat down on it. He was pleased to see that his tether was about four metres long, so he could easily reach this corner, although the far side of the room might be out of his reach. Leaning backwards and tilting his face into the light, he listened, trying to get any idea of where he could be. There was no traffic that he could hear, although there was a slight rushing sound. Now water, but subtler. Wind through the trees, it must be! But that must mean that he was in a forest of sorts, or in the countryside at least. At any rate, he was nowhere near his London home anymore, which is where everyone would be looking for him, for a while at least. 'Might as well get comfortable,' he thought to himself.


	4. Has anyone seen Dougie?

Danny woke first, groaning to himself and rubbing his fists over his eyes, before getting up, stretching, and trudging to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. As the kettle boiled, Tom came in, saw the mugs lined up on the side, and called through to Harry to "get your lazy arse over here for coffee!" Danny spooned coffee into the four mugs, and started pouring the hot water in. Harry took his as he came through, and Danny picked up one for Tom and passed it to him. Turning to get his own, he saw that there was one left spare. He scrunched up his forehead in concentration before realising it must be for their youngest friend.

"Guys," he said, turning to the other two sitting at the table, "when did Dougs come home last night?"

They froze for a second, as panic settled over them. Then Tom slowly lowered his mug, setting it carefully on the table. Harry mimicked his actions a second later, then pushed away from the table, eyes flicking between the two other men.

"We fell asleep during the movie, and he went out for more beer...what's the time, how long has he been gone?"

Tom checked his watch, ever the sensible one. "It's just gone midday, so that's about twelve hours, I suppose. He couldn't have gone past us and gone to his room could he?"

Harry was out of his chair and racing up the stairs before Danny had reacted. They could hear him crashing around upstairs, slamming open doors, calling out. While Danny stood still, listening to the frantic searching, Ton went to the phone, and after putting in the speed dial for Dougie, held it to his ear expectantly. He pressed the end call button just as Harry reappeared in the doorway, shaking his head at the silent question.

"No answer on his mobile, but then if he's not in the house, he must have got lost, or something. He's probably just fallen asleep in the park or something..."

"But to sleep this late in Tom? It's been blinding daylight for a good few hours out there mate, and even Dougie can't sleep through that, or get lost on a five minute walk, even in the dark..."

As harry had been talking, Tom had gone out into the hallway, and was now shrugging on his coat and pushing his feet into his shoes. "Well, I'm going to look around for him, so either you two can stay here twiddling your thumbs, or you can help look for our missing friend! Which is it going to be?"

Within five minutes all three of them were standing by the off-licence, jiggling to keep warm. Having retraced Dougie's steps, they had seen nothing.

"Okay," Danny said, "lets search separately, a bit at least, so we can cover more ground, look down side streets and stuff. We know he was around here, and he couldn't have gotten too far in the state he was in last night, so I'll go down this way, and Harry you go down that side street and Tom can go down the other side of the main road."

It sounded like a plan, and Danny had certainly watched enough films to know what he was talking about, so they did as he said.

Harry was scanning the walls and pavement of his designated street, when he noticed something out of the ordinary. There was a plastic carrier bag, with 16 bottles of their favourite beer in them, all unopened, and the receipt in the bag said the time of purchase was 00.04. Just past midnight, which was when Dougie had...

"GUYS! I've found something!" he called, hoping that Tom was close enough to hear and get Danny. Sure enough, running footsteps came up behind him, as he was pushing through to debris at the side of the road, looking for anything that could help them. He knew that Dougie would never have left something like that, especially wouldn't have gone down such a dodgy ally at night without a good reason. As he hear the others gasping at his original discovery, he felt something smooth under his fingers, grabbed it and pulled it out. The other two fell silent, looking at what he had found.

It was definitely Dougie's phone, with that stupid panda sticker on the back, but it was taped to a long metal pipe, and on the end was blood, a dried up rust colour, and a few golden hairs stuck to it. Yup. Definitely Dougie's.

He heard Danny let out a long whistle behind him, as Tom whispered, "Oh God, Dougie."


	5. The news is out

It had been a couple of nights since he had first arrived, and Dougie had decided to tally the days on the side of the wall with a rusty nail he had found under the mattress. His wrists were chafing from the rope he still had around them, and from tugging on it in his effort to explore every inch of his prison. His fears had been confirmed though, and a thorough search had showed that there was no weak spot on the walls, and no trapdoor anywhere he could reach. The post was too far into the ground to pull out himself, the rope was too strong and trying to twist his hands free had only achieved more pain for his troubles. He was now sitting in the corner against the walls, thinking about food. He had experienced hunger when he did I'm A Celebrity, and sure he had been given bread and water while he was here, but it wasn't enough.

The sound of a bolt grinding back brought him back to reality, and as he heard the lock click, and the door swung open, he raised his head to look at his captor through his fringe.

"Ahh, you're up. I think I might have something to interest you, Dougie," the man spoke conversationally. He threw several newspapers on the floor in front of Dougie.

"MC-KIDNAPPED!" was the headline of the front page of the uppermost publication. Leaning over, curiosity getting the better of him, Dougie saw, under a massive photo of himself from their last tour, and article all about himself.

_"Dougie Poynter, the bass player of hit band McFly, and winner of the 2011 series of I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here, had disappeared near his London home._

_Dougie, 25 years old, was last seen late at night buying beer on the 24__th__. Suspicions that his disappearance could have been to do with the alcohol have been crushed by investigators, who claimed to have found the beer down an alleyway near where the drink was purchased. Found at the scene by Dougie's band mates on a search for their friend, was the bassists phone and metal piping with blood and hair on it, both of which has now been confirmed as Mr. Poynter's. The evidence so far suggests that the victim made his purchase, before being ambushed by an unknown number of assailants, and driven away in a silver BMW seen parked near the scene of the crime._

_Police admit that they are at a loss as to what happened during that fateful night. Inspector Grange stated that "our leads so far are very few, and none suggest as to Mr. Poynter's current location. We remain hopeful, however, that the BMW can be traced, or that a ransom will be delivered which we can work on. We are doing our utmost to find the victim, but must insist that this case has the same priority as any other, despite Mr. Poynter's prominent status."_

_When asked to comment, the rest of McFly, consisting of Tom Fletcher, Danny Jones and Harry Judd, were said to be unavailable, but a close friend of the band claimed that they were very involved in the search._

_Dougie is best known for his role in the band, which has had numerous number ones since its formation in 2003. Often said to be the quiet one in the group, and one half of the fictional bromance that is 'pudd', with bandmate Harry Judd, Dougie has had severe problems in the past with drugs and alcohol, coming to a head in early 2011. Since then, he has...Continued on page 2"_

Dougie sighed and leaned back again. Of course they had to bring that stupid stuff up again, and his thing with Harry. There had been moments between them, when they were young and stupid, but it was long gone! It was a shame, he thought, that none of the others had said anything to the papers, even if it was hard for them, it would have been good to hear anything, even in print, about how they were feeling. Helping with the investigation wouldn't do much though; it didn't sound like they had much to go on anyway.

"Guess what," said his captor, bringing Dougie back to the present. He looked up, to see the man holding a phone up so he could see it clearly. "I'm going to call your phone. And on the other end will be one of your friends. I heard that the police weren't interested in it, because the only information they could get from it was from your texts and emails, and those they scanned pretty quickly, so they gave it back. Stupid really, because I have your number, which is how I can get my ransom." He smiled evilly. "But first though, because I'm going to put it on speakerphone so that you can hear them, I'm going to need to stop you from speaking, nothing personal."

At his last words, he took a rectangle of material from his pocket, and began walking towards Dougie. Realising too late, Dougie tried to twist away, but lost his balance because of his bound wrists and fell over, as the man landed on him, kneeling on his shoulders to keep him down and ignoring the scream of pain Dougie let out. Tying the gag securely around his mouth, preventing him from making a coherent sound, he pushed himself off and walked calmly to the other side of the room, out of Dougie's reach as he got back up, and started straining to get at his captor. The man dialled a number in, and held the phone to his ear.


	6. The first call

The three of them had been sitting in the living room together, waiting for any news from the police, when the ringing started.

"Danny, pick it up mate," Harry said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"It's not me though, and the only other one of us that has an iphone is..."

They all looked up, eyes wide at the same time, before Tom launched himself across to where Dougie's phone lay on a table, just before it went to voicemail.

"Hello, Tom here. Who is this?"

_"I want you to listen very carefully Tom. First, put me on speakerphone so that the other two can hear me."_

"Okay, but who..."

_"Just do it."_

Alarmed, Tom took the phone away from his ear, and ignoring the concerned faces of the other two, pressed the speaker button, before setting the phone on the arm of the sofa he and Danny were sitting on.

"Okay, now who is this, and what do you want?"

_"I have Dougie. I can tell you now that you will never find him, not unless I tell you where he is at least. Tracing this phone won't work either, in case you're thinking of it, I have taken every precaution to make this work. I have come to claim my price for him. It is non-negotiable."_

Harry instantly jumped forward; "How much do you want? We'll pay it, just give us time!"

_"You have as much time as you want to pay me 5 million pounds. Of course, it will be slightly time dependant..."_

"On what, what's the limit?"

_"Well, I could get quite bored waiting for my money, and with a vulnerable boy here, all to myself, I might just start experimenting...seeing what happens when you do certain things to people. Some might call it inhumane, I suppose. So I suppose the time limit is how long this one here can survive, or how damaged you want him when he comes back."_

"What!?" they screamed in union, " You can't do that to someone! That's sick!" Danny added.

_"Well I have him here with me now, so I could start if you like. Let's see...I wonder if it's true that if you punch someone hard enough they pass out..."_

Before the band had stood in outrage and disbelief, they heard a muffled thump on the other end of the line, and then a groaning noise.

"_Hmmm, that didn't work. Maybe it has to be harder, like with a foot or something...do you think kicking would work Dougs? You can speak now that thing's slipped off, go on"_

Tom let out an almost hysterical laugh when he heard Dougie's distinct voice come through the line, slightly fainter, saying something that sounded very insulting and suitably rude to only be on past the watershed.

_"Now now what would the fans think? But anyway boys, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Five million, as quick as you like, before I start getting really naughty. I'll text you the account number."_

The phone clicked off, leaving the band sitting in silence. Before either of the others could speak, Harry got up and ran to the bathroom. From where they were, the others could hear him being violently sick, before croaking "Where are we going to find five million from?"


	7. Where could they get the money?

"You're insane," Dougie spat, with blood trickling from his reopened head wound. "We don't have that kind of money, even if we combined everything we had and sold everything we own, it wouldn't be enough. If you had asked for something reasonable they might have paid but now..."

"Don't underestimate me. Ever. I checked what funds you have available before deciding the amount obviously."

"Then you'll know it's true, we can't get five million."

"No, I know that you four don't have that much, but you have a fair amount. What I'm relying on are your business contacts among the rich and famous who will answer your friends cries for help. I'm relying on the millions of fans who would give anything to have you back home safely. If you take all those people into account, plus however many more just happen to hear about your situation and are trying to help, and I would say that I could have asked for even higher."

Dougie sat backwards, astonished at this man's attention to detail, in what should have been a simple case of kidnapping. He knew that they had sold over ten million records over the years, so if even half of those people remembered their music and decided to help out, he would be free! People would respond wouldn't they, they would have to; surely they would have sympathy for him. He had always been the quiet one, not speaking much in interviews, but even if he wasn't as chatty as Harry or Tom, people had thought he was cute...which had to count for something...

He had been so busy processing this, that he didn't notice his captor walking towards him, until he flicked him in the head. Dougie hissed and retreated, feeling like a baited animal.

"I meant what I said about hurting you, you know. You had better hope that your fans are as loyal as I am assuming they are, because if they're not, then they had better prepare to only have three members in the band soon..."

With that, he got up, whistling, and after pocketing the phone, strode out, chuckling to himself.


	8. Blood

It had been more than a week since the phone call, and Dougie was finding it hard to stay positive. He had known that it would take time to get that kind of money, but to him the hours had been stretching out, with nothing to do but sit in his room and stare at the walls, occasionally singing softly to himself, trying to keep his spirits up. At least twice a day the man who was keeping him in here would come in with food and water, leave it for him and then collect it. Dougie found himself missing things he never thought he would, like the smell of hot coffee, or Harry's marmite, or those weird bran cereals Tom liked, and even Danny's bad cooking! He missed duvets, and laughter, and running, and he really, really missed his friends.

There was Tom, who had always been there. The band had been his idea, and they all owed everything they had to him. He had a cute dimple, and knew so much about everything. He had big puppy-dog eyes and had this way of pouting at you over his glasses, so that just about everyone would melt and give in to whatever he wanted.

Then Danny. God, that kid had something missing in his head for sure, but he was so funny and outgoing that everyone loved him in spite of it. He was a genius with a guitar, and playing with him onstage made life seem perfect again, whatever had been happening during the day. They always teased him for his accent, but really Dougie loved it, and would have given anything to hear it at that moment.

Harry was different too. He had been the new kid with Dougie when they joined the band, and even though they would never normally have bothered speaking if circumstances had been different, they soon became firm friends. He was the confident posh guy who was good at everything he tried, so competitive he could make anything into a contest, while Dougie had been the quiet skater kid, with lizards and a troubled past. Harry had been everything to him in the early days. Neither of them had been too good at their instruments, especially compared to Danny and Tom, but they had practiced together for hours and hours, perfecting the rhythm parts. You couldn't spend that kind of time working and playing together, and not have a bond.

Dougie raised his head as the door creaked open. He didn't know what to expect; in the past few days he had been punched and kicked in so many places that it ached just to be awake. Bruises blossomed like ink blots under his filthy clothes.

"I have news," grinned his captor, striding into the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him, knowing that his subject was bound, and would never have tried to outrun him in his condition anyway. Dougie was strong-willed and stubborn, but he wasn't stupid.

Dougie pushed himself to his feet at this; he had heard very little about what was happening outside his room, and his imagination was driving him insane with what could be happening in the world. He didn't dare say anything though, in case it stopped him getting this 'news'.

"Your friends have set up a website. For you. It's an appeal for money. Obviously they had the same idea as I did, eventually. The newspapers have been going crazy though! I'm not surprised that the money is coming in, with so much publicity going on! I could be paid within the month, if things carry on this way!" he paused, letting it sink in.

"Do they know where I am? Will they come for me?" Dougie blurted out, forgetting his decision to keep quiet with his excitement.

"Of course not! It was once my job to stay hidden, and the police they have on your case are pretty good, but not exactly CSI investigation standard. They're still searching London, but of course they have no idea that I brought you up here! It was too easy to get you and keep you; I'm a professional with this stuff. I didn't come in here to chat though, so lie down like we practiced yesterday."

The day before, the man had showed Dougie two iron circles, hammered into opposite walls in his prison. He had had to lie on the floor with his wrists chained to one loop, and his body stretched out with his ankles roped to the other loop. The man hadn't done much though, the worst bit had been leaving him there, unable to move and uncomfortable, for what he guessed was two hours. When Dougie had finally been released, he hadn't been able to move, and h still felt stiff from the ordeal today.

Sensing his hesitance, the man said "Okay, this is how it's going to happen. You can either refuse to do it yourself, and I can knock you out and do it, which will no doubt take longer and be more painful for you, or, you can lie down like a good little boy, and I can tell you about some things that one of your band-mates said to the press this morning."

Dougie considered his options for a second. Resistance hadn't done him much good before, and so less pain, as well as news about Tom, Danny or Harry was worth a sacrifice of pride.

He lay down obediently, letting his bounds be pulled tight. He watched, arms already aching in anticipation, as the man left the room, then returned, without anything with him as far as he could see, except a folded piece of paper.

"I wrote it out, you see, I don't want to misquote him when you're being so good about everything." He unfolded the paper, but something small and silver fell out, slipping between his hands and landing with a tinkle on the floor. "Oops, how silly of me, I almost forgot..." the man said, bending to pick up the object. He held it up to the light, turning his wrist slightly so that the light flashed of the sharp edge. He put the paper back in his pocket, and crouched down next to Dougie, holding the flat side of the razor blade against his cheek, so that he could feel the cool metal.

"That tattoo sleeve of yours is very nice Dougie, but I wonder what it would look like with some more red over it..."

Realising too late what was coming, Dougie started desperately twisting to get away, though moving nowhere.

"Now hold still will you, or I might mess up. We wouldn't want anything to happen now would we..."

"You're crazy. Completely psycho!" Dougie spat, as the man straddled his chest, keeping him relatively still. He pinned his wrist down and pressed the blade against Dougie's skin, just below his elbow, avoiding the vein.

"That's not a very nice thing to say, is it? I would be nice to me now, if I were you." He pushed down harder on the metal, as pain sliced into Dougie's arm, and he screamed.

Dougie came round. His stomach started swimming, to match his head which felt as if he was spinning very fast. His feet were free, as well as his wrists, for the first time. Looking down at his right arm, he saw gashes criss-crossing it, mostly on the lower half. Feeling as though he was about to pass out again, he heard a voice, as if coming to him down an echoing tunnel.

"Oh, and by the way, it was Harry. He said that you had to still be out there, because otherwise he couldn't bear to live with himself. You might want to eat something; you lost a lot of blood..."


	9. At the station

Tom, Harry and Danny took their usual seats in front of Inspector Grange, the man in charge of the investigation to find Dougie, and whoever had taken him. Danny folded his arms on the table and leaned his head on them, looking tired. Tom sat back in his chair, and Harry had a straight back, looking for all the world like he was in the military.

It had been over a month now. They had come every day for the first few weeks, often with one of them sitting in the station for a several hours at a time, hoping for news. Now though, it was harder to maintain high hopes.

"You look wrecked, boys, seriously. You know we'll call you if we have any news..."

"We have to do something. I think," Tom said, looking at the other two for support as he continued, "that sitting at home doing nothing would just about kill us. Do you have anything to tell us since Tuesday?"

"There's only one thing you haven't heard about, as far as I know. As we said before, we have confirmed that it is Dougie's blood and hair on the weapon. There are no fingerprints new enough of numerous enough to be those of his attacker, and so we suspect from trace fibres that he was wearing gloves. The call to the phone you gave us really is untraceable, but we do have news on the letter that you were sent a couple of weeks ago..."

"The one giving us the bank details for the account to give the money to? Have you found him, do you know where he is?"

The Inspector gave Danny a pitying look at his outburst. "Yes, that's the one, but Dan, if we knew where he was, do you really think I wouldn't have bothered calling you, or that I would be here with you now, instead of searching?" he said, as he sat backwards, settling further into his chair. "That letter was sent from Paris, by air mail. Hang on," he said as Harry began to open his mouth, "that doesn't mean that our man is in Paris. We got the French police involved within the hour, and by yesterday they had located a woman who had admitted to sending a letter to your address."

"Why haven't they brought her in then, got her to say where she's keeping him, or how much she knows!"

"Because, Mr. Man-of-action, she doesn't know anything. We sent the files on the case across the channel to the froggy force, and they did the questioning themselves, which is much simpler than having her brought over here, and they speak her language too. Apparently, she got an envelope from England with instructions to post the typed letter inside to your address. Postage was paid, and there was twenty euros inside for her trouble, and to destroy the rest of the package."

"But I don't understand..." said Tom, "why would she not go to the police with something that suspicious?"

"Apparently the letter said that someone was watching her. It was all written in perfect French too, so whoever wrote it either hired a translator, which seems unlikely given the criminal nature of it's contents, or he, or she, is very good at languages themselves..."

Harry still looked puzzled, rubbing his hand across his face as he said, "But if someone was watching her, then surely we can find them?"

The Inspector sighed and explained: "It was probably an empty threat, but even if it wasn't, they would have cleared out pretty soon after they saw her follow the instructions, burning the letter and all, otherwise we might have been able to find them. Sorry boys, but it didn't help us, even if it took time to work out. I don't suppose you have anything more for us?"

"Nothing. But thank-you for everything you've done so far, and please call us if there's the slightest hint of a clue." Tom said, getting out of his chair and swinging his coat back around his shoulders. He had become a sort of spokesperson for all of them. Harry often looked like he thought it was all just a nightmare, and he would wake up with his best friend sleeping in the room next-door again. Danny, well, he just didn't always know what was going on, and didn't have the same way with words as Tom did.

They walked through the sliding doors of the station onto the pavement outside, and stood blinking for a moment as their eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, showing that even though it was still cold for now, warmer weather was on its way.

"Just think," Danny said softly, "Dougs could be halfway across the world by now, and we would never know..."

"They're pretty sure that he's still in England though, it would have been too hard to take him out." Tom sighed.

"Do you think that he knows that we've paid the money yet? He must think that no-one cares..." Harry said, as they turned up the street towards their house. '_He must know we care, more than he could ever understand...' _he thought, wondering where their friend was, and what he was doing.


	10. Attitude-changing

Dougie did know that they had paid. His captor had come in gleeful that day, waving money around and cackling strangely. The idea had never been to let him go apparently; it had been to see how much he could get out of the world, before it caught up with him. Dougie hadn't picked up too many bruises that day either, not like the others.

That day though, he had realised that he was never going to be released, and that no-one was coming for him. Although this thought had, for obvious reasons, not been a pleasant one, it had made him think. If there was no help to be had, he would have to get out under his own steam, and so he had a plan.

Dougie had done meditation before, and from all the films he had seen, and partially because of Tom's nerdy factoids, he knew that it was possible to slow down your heartbeat to make it almost undetectable, and hold your breath for such a long time that that wouldn't give you away either. It took training, and practice, but it wasn't like he had anything else to do. It had to help that he wasn't getting fed that much and suffered blood loss of some kind on a fairly regular basis; that was supposed to weaken your heart wasn't it?

The plan was simple, but if it failed then Dougie knew he would be severely punished, possibly in a manner which he would not survive. His idea was that one day, when he could manage it, he would pretend to be dead. He hoped that this would be a big enough distraction for the man that he could somehow escape. It wasn't much of a plan, but at least it was something, which was more than it seemed that the police seemed to have at any rate.

Dougie was lying on the floor, holding his breath and trying to stop his pulse racing, when he heard the footsteps outside his door. He leapt up and moved to lean against the wall to avoid making the man suspicious, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

The door swung open as his captor entered, the usual rope, now spotted with blood and dirt, looped over his arm.

"Hello there, Dougie. Beautiful day, isn't it?" He got a resentful stare, but no words, in response.

"Alright then, usual drill: wrists and ankles." To this, Dougie dutifully held out his hands together. He was no longer tied inside his room, because he knew that it wasn't worth an attack on the man because of the pain it had cost him when he'd tried.

Once Dougie was tied up to his satisfaction, sitting against the wall furthest from the door, the man crouched down in front of him, breathing much too close to his face for comfort.

"Today, we're trying something new. It's something I learned a few years ago, and I've see it done, but never got to do it myself..."

"Is it killing me?" Dougie interrupted, "because, frankly, there isn't anything else you could do to me. we've done punching, kicking, cutting and taunting, so really the only thing I can think of at this point would be to kill me..."

"Now don't jump to conclusions here," the man hissed, "I have done all the physical ones, or at least, the ones that don't have a permanent effect on you. What I want to do is more...mental."

"Are you going to lower my self esteem now? Bully me into submission? Cos I've had that before so I think I know how to handle..." and the man punched him, a furious expression on his face. As he sat up straight again, Dougie made a mental note to remember the mental note he had made fairly early on of not to taunt someone who was in a higher position of power.

"You can think of it as..." the man hissed slowly, grabbing Dougie's hair and forcing his head back, "hypnosis, if you like. I would call it more...attitude-changing..."


	11. Attitude changed

The days were beginning to blur into each other, as Dougie practiced and practiced, trying to get his heartbeat to quieten and his breathing to still for as long as possible. He could feel himself lasting for longer; he didn't have a watch to time himself by, but he would go through his bass parts to some of their songs to see how far in he could get. He supposed that being part of a rhythm section was useful after all; Tom and Danny might have had more trouble...

He knew from the tally he had been scratching into the wall that he had been here now for two months. He ached all over, and some of the first cuts had lost their scabs now, and were shining white scars. The ones on his right arm were strange-looking against his tattoo, the pattern was distorted, pulled in ways it shouldn't be as his skin had knitted itself back together slightly differently.

It wasn't just his body though; his head felt strange. It might be to do with the now daily afternoon sessions with the man, but he could never quite remember what went on in those hours, and it made his head ache like he had been hit over the head with a sledgehammer to think about it, so he didn't dwell.

The strange thong was how he missed home now. It was hard to put his finger on how it was different...something about the people. It wasn't his family; he still missed them, and it wasn't the band. No. Wait. It was something to do with the band. Tom he still missed, and Danny would have been one of the best possible things to see right now, but, what was it then?

Harry. Dougie remembered. Even though his memories of Harry were fewer than the others, and some seemed weirdly disconnected, he still knew how Harry made him feel. Harry was bad, wholly and utterly wrong, and he was dangerous. Dougie couldn't quite remember why he felt this, but it was like that person at school who you had known forever, and couldn't remember why you started to dislike them, but knew there had to have been a reason. Harry would hurt him, Dougie was sure of it. He would hurt the others too, but Dougie had no way to warn them about how wrong it was to be close to someone so bad. It was a mystery how they were still a band, he thought resentfully, seeing as though one of them was practically a psychopath. It was only a matter of time before things went seriously wrong, and Harry would lose it, and hurt them all badly. Really badly.

That wasn't what he was supposed to be concentrating on though. Not now. He had to carry on with his plan to get out, not only to save himself, but to warn the others.


	12. The escape

Dougie was lying on his side on the cool ground, eyes closed and breathing deeply. It was the morning, early he guessed from the weakness of the sunlight coming through his window, and the man hadn't come in yet. But when he did, he would find that his captive had died overnight. Or at least, Dougie hoped that he would.

Today was the day, he could feel it.

If he didn't get out today then he would go mad, completely lose it, and never get out. He had been playing at getting gradually weaker for the past week or so, and the day before, he had decided, and had hidden his evening meal behind his mattress. He didn't know where they were, and how far he would need to go before he found someone else, and so he would take the food with him when he ran.

He heard footsteps coming towards his door, and started to focus on making his chest lifeless; no pulse in his wrist and no breath leaving his lips would give him away today.

The bolt slid back, and the key turned. Dougie closed his eyes, and sent a silent prayer to any God that might be out there that his plan would work.

The heavy thud of boots approaching him, and the usual greeting of "Morning Sunshine" showed that the man hadn't realised the unusual stillness of his plaything. The sudden coolness of his skin told him that the man was standing over him now, blocking the sun. Dougie felt himself being first lightly kicked on the leg, and then roughly pushed onto his back.

He kept his face and limbs relaxed, staying limp and holding his breath. He heard the muttered cursing and someone slapping his face to wake him up, then a hand grabbed his wrist and held it tightly. It seemed like his training had paid off though, because the wrist was dropped with more swearing.

The footsteps left, running out of the room, and Dougie waited for a few seconds, deliberating whether he was going to come back or not, and then decided to make his move. The door had been left open. Perfect.

Dougie loped towards it, not able to run properly but still willing himself to move faster. He emerged into a corridor. It was painted a fresh white, with windows all along one side, showing quiet woodland beyond.

Dougie yanked on the nearest handle, pushed the window open, and pushed himself through it, landing on the other side with a thump as he lost his balance.

There was no fence to climb, thankfully, and so he darted towards the shelter of the trees. The grass was still damp from rain, and he slipped a few times as he tried to move away, get away from the awful place.

He could only have been going for a few minutes, though it felt like much longer, when he heard a distant roar of "Dougie!" and then he ran. Looking over his shoulder, he could no longer see the house through the trees, but he didn't know that the man couldn't catch up to him.

As he ran, his lungs felt like they were tearing apart, and his head was pounding with every jolt of his body as his feet hit the ground. His whole being was screaming, telling him to stop, but he couldn't. The adrenaline pushed him forwards, and he ran as fast as he could. A few times he almost ran into a tree, looming out at him unexpectedly in his panicked state, but he swerved and dipped around them until

Until the ground suddenly dropped below him, and he was falling, sliding on mud and leaves and feeling his skin open on rocks and twigs. He rolled to a halt at the bottom, dazed and suddenly, overwhelmingly tired. He felt as though he was about to be sick, and there was a darkness swimming at the edge of his vision that told him he was about to lose consciousness. Just before it washed over him, he remembered he had forgotten his food.

"At least I'll die free," was the last thing his mind could put together, before he was swallowed by blackness.


	13. Found, and an explanation

Tom and Harry were in Danny's room, planning the next tour. It was too hard to do nothing, so when they weren't at the police station, they made plans. It gave them a fantasy world, where their future was certain and definitely involved Dougie, back with them. It had been too hard to practice their songs; they had tried, but it was like some humourless parody of their lives: there was a part missing.

"So," said Danny, breaking the moody silence that had hung over them for the past few minutes, "if we start in Edinburgh and work our way down, we can finish the UK leg of the tour by November."

Tom sat up a bit at this. "November, but Dan, if we push back the start by a month, then we could finish in December and do some Christmas shows! What do you think Harry?"

"Hmm? Oh...sure, whatever you want." Harry said, looking slightly unfocused.

When Tom's phone started ringing, they all looked round, trying not to get too excited. It might not be news, and they had got their hopes up too many times before.

"Tom, are you there? Are the others there?"

"Oh, Inspector! Yes, they're here. Is there any news?" Danny and Harry motioned for him to put the Inspector on speakerphone, excited by the possibility of progress.

"It's more than news boys, he's been found! He was in the middle of nowhere. They're taking him to the nearest hospital now, do you have paper for the address?"

Within minutes, the three of them were in Tom's car, with Harry driving, barrelling down the motorway. Neither of the others bothered to tell Harry that he should slow down, all they cared about was that Dougie was alive and out, and they HAD to see him.

It was more than an hour before they arrived at the hospital, and they sprinted from the car to the entrance, almost running over Inspector Grange in the reception, and making many of the patients waiting jump.

"Where is he?"

"You can't see him yet boys. He's being taken care of..."

Harry stormed forward, backed by the other two and looked like he was going to punch the Inspector; after all they had been through, he didn't seem to understand that they needed to be with him, almost to make sure that this was for real...

"I'm sorry! He's unconscious anyway, but they needed to give him immediate care which involved some surgery! Come through to our room and I can explain more..."

They followed him, still seething, but realising that there was nothing they could do unless the Inspector told them where Dougie was, and there wasn't any chance that they could force the answer out of a man like that.

"What's wrong with him?" Tom demanded, thumping his fist against the table as soon as they were sat around it.

"Your friend is in bad shape. He has bruising all over his body, and burns and lacerations, concentrated mainly on his arms, but also present across his body. At the moment, I think they're taking care of some fractured ribs, but otherwise his bones seem to be fine."

"How is he though, I mean, how is he feeling?"

"We don't know yet what kind of mental trauma he experienced. I can tell you that his injuries were sufficient that, had he not had a strong mind, he could well have died. We can therefore assume that he is still, at the very least, sane. I feel I should warn you though, that this kind of experience will almost certainly have scarred him mentally, with severe consequences, possibly with personality changes..."

"How can you not know how his mind is?" Danny interrupted, looking confused. "I mean," he said, looking to the other two for support, "surely you can tell from speaking to him?"

The Inspector shifted slightly in his chair. "We haven't spoken to him," he explained, looking up, "he has been unconscious ever since we got to him. An old lady was out walking her dog when she discovered him early this morning. She saw that he was covered in blood, called 999, and they picked him up as soon as they could, it wasn't easy with him having a forest on one side, and a muddy field on the other..."

"Covered in blood," Tom repeated faintly, sitting back and covering his face with his hands.

"But if he was unconscious, how did they know who he..."

"Good question, Harry. Apparently one of the ambulance crew recognised him from the papers. They called in to the hospital to get me on the phone and over here, and I called you. I am surprised though," he said slowly, "that none of you have asked if we got the kidnapper..."

"Did you?" they all said at once, making the Inspector laugh.

"Yes. His name is Jerry Sanders, and he's 29 years old." Inspector Grange paused, looking at them. "You look blank, boys. You shouldn't."

"I don't remember a Jerry Sanders..." said Tom, the others nodding, looking confused.

"But you, Tom, met him on three separate occasions. No? Still don't remember? Well, the first time was the Busted auditions. You two got chatting apparently, and then never spoke after you found out you got in. I know it's not your fault," he said, as Tom opened his mouth to defend himself. "The second time, Danny was there too, but neither of the others were, do you remember that?"

"The London auditions," murmured Tom.

"What?" said Danny, looking shocked that Tom would remember the individuals, other than Dougie and Harry, who had tried to get into McFly.

"There was that guy," said Tom, looking up at the other two, "one who I recognised from Busted, and he wanted to be our bass player. He was in one of the first groups we saw, and he still hated me for getting Busted, even though it didn't last."

"Yes," smiled the Inspector, looking happy that Tom was remembering the man at last. "He still held that against you, but now Danny too. He thought you were in it together, and of course he resented Dougie for getting in for bass when he didn't. He gave up music after that, and moved to America. He worked for the FBI and CIA for a few years before he became a security man, bodyguard work mostly, which is how he met you again when..."

"We did Jus My Luck," said Harry quietly.

"Yes," said the inspector, looking shocked, "but how did you know Harry, you would have barely seen him, if at all, before that..."

"He was supposed to be looking after us, but then he sometimes disappeared, and I always heard him complaining about us. He said we were useless, that Dougs and I only got in because of how we looked, and Tom and Danny were superficial bastards who passed off other peoples songs and bad busted copies as their own. It was only when I heard one of the other guards ask him why he hated us so much that he said about the auditions, and I remembered id met him in the loos that day."

"Ahh, so we all know who he is then," said the Inspector, smiling at Harry's explanation. Danny raised his hand slowly, looking unsure.

"Um, yes Danny? You don't need to put up your hand you know, we're not at school."

"Sorry, but I was just wondering...I assume that the attack on Dougie was deliberate..." Danny said, looking up.

"Yes, we know that Dougie was targeted."

"But why? I mean, Tom and I turned down loads of people, not just him, and there must have been some others who didn't get into Busted who tried out for us just like him. Even if he didn't like working on the film, why would you break the law for that? It was just a few weeks of his life..."

"Another good question. Simply put, because he lost his job and credibility because of you boys. I know that you didn't mean for it to happen, but I'm sure that you remember that night when you went to a party with Lindsay, you especially Harry," he said, nodding as the drummer blushed. "That night he was supposed to be looking out for you, making sure that nothing happens. Directors often get people in to stop awkward relationships developing between the cast, and that was Jerry Sanders job for the night. He lost you in the crowds, and didn't see you get into a cab, and therefore, couldn't stop anything from happening. It was an embarrassment, but he was found out, and fired. Professionals shouldn't lose an actress and some popstars like that; it was humiliating, it cost him his job, and because of what had happened with you before, he became somewhat obsessed. He says that he only started seriously thinking out plans to do something about it a year ago though."

There was a knock at the door, and a pretty, young nurse came in, looking shy.

"Sorry, but I've been told to tell you that you can see him now. He's still unconscious, but he's in the Green ward, on the left..."

She didn't get the chance to finish before Tom, Harry and Danny had pushed past and started running down the corridor, feet slapping against the plastic flooring and echoing behind them.

Harry was the first to arrive, with all the running he did, and pushed the door open, almost breaking down at the sight of his friend, looking so tiny and pale against the sheets. He had a livid black eye, and bruises and cuts littered across his sleeping face. His hair was different too, much shorter, almost more like Danny's, instead of the longer fringe he had to push out of his eyes. Dougie's arms were over the sheets, almost covered in white bandages and plasters, while just under his shoulders, Harry could see what must be more bandaging holding his broken chest together.

Tom and Danny had arrived soon after him, out of breath and panting. They stood in the doorway, just watching the movement of Dougie's chest up and down, too afraid to touch him, in case it hurt him.

"He'll be fine new," said the young nurse said from behind them, smiling as they jumped at her voice. She gently pushed them forwards, steering them into chairs around the bed. "He just needs rest now, and lots of time to recover. He shouldn't be in pain at least, he's hooked up to some pretty strong drugs to stop him feeling all that, which should have him knocked out for a few hours at least..."

"His hair, what's happened to his hair?" Tom mumbled, reaching out as if to touch it, but pulling his hand back as if shocked, remembering Dougie's injuries.

"Oh that was us, don't worry. He had quite a bad head wound, we suspect from when he fell, but it was covered in mud and dirt, and we had to clean it in case it got infected. The hair was too thick to do anything, and was, umm..." she looked scared to continue, but Tom nodded for her to continue, "well, it was, um, stuck together a bit. With blood. You can touch his hands by the way, if you like, they're fine." She smiled as she left, as all three of the boys leaned forwards to touch the friend they had been missing for so long.


	14. The awakening

Harry was out as Dougie came round, getting coffee for all of them, but Tom and Danny were there: Tom was sitting on Dougie's left, staring blankly at him, and Danny was on the right, with his head on his folded arms on the bed, eyes closed.

Dougie scrunched his eyes up before he opened them, staring blearily at Tom, then down at Danny, who was level with his waist.

"'S he 'sleep?" was the first thing he said, looking at Danny. His question was rapidly answered by Danny himself, who, upon hearing Dougie's voice, completely forgot their instructions to only touch where there weren't bandages, and wrapped his arms around his friend. Dougie yelped loudly at this, and Danny released him with a "Sorry, sorry, man!" still not able to keep the smile off his face. Tom pulled his chair forwards, grinning, to grab Dougie's hand, enjoying the slightly confused look on his friends face as he looked around.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice still slightly slurred from the painkillers.

"You're in hospital, and you're safe," said Tom, trying to reassure him. "We missed you," he added softly, hoping that Dougie can know how good it is that he's back, "and they got him, Jerry Sanders."

"Who's Jerry Sanders?" said Dougie, before realisation dawned on his face, just as Danny laughed and said "He's a bad man Dougs, but your safe now 'cos we got him!"

Dougie needed to remember something, but he couldn't think what...it was something to do with bad man, and being safe, because he wasn't, and he needed to warn the others about...

Harry pushed through the door backwards, three coffees balanced in his hands, just as Dougie was about to tell...

And Dougie screamed, so loud Harry dropped what he was carrying, still in the doorway. Dougie started fighting to get out of bed, trying to pull out the needle in his arm, before Danny pushed him down and held his arms by his sides.

"What are you doing Dougie? It's just Harry..." Tom started, trying to stop him fighting Danny, as Harry stood frozen where he stood, clearly so shocked he didn't know what to do.

"Get him away from me! He'll hurt me, and you! Get him away!" Dougie yelled, as doctors drawn by the noise came running, and began to sedate him again. Inspector Grange came in as this was happening and grabbed Harry by the elbows, pulling him out, Harry still looking too shell-shocked to do anything other than stare at the one person he had wanted back more than anything in the world, and who now wanted nothing to do with him.


	15. The enemy

The three men were back in the same office they had been in with Inspector Grange before they had gone to Dougie's ward. Dougie had come round again, and been spoken to, but none of the rest of the band had been allowed in again, and Harry hadn't spoken a word since he left the room. The Inspector had just come in, after speaking with some of the doctors outside the room in hushed tones.

"Well, we think we know what this is..." he said, as Harry raised deadpan eyes to look at him, and the other two sat up desperate to know what had happened.

"From what Tom and Danny say, and what I've seen, Dougie is acting completely normally, even better than what I would have expected under the circumstances. The only exception to this is..."

"Me," Harry interrupted abruptly.

"Well, yes, Harry. We had a closer look at him though, after you all left. Even though Sanders refused to cooperate and tell us what he'd done to him, we can work it out from Dougie's head, and what he told us. It seems that he was subjected to a very unusual type of brainwashing. It's known as the Bumola Treatment, based on experiments by Dr Bumola and Dr Delgado, and has been illegal for a number of decades, but we know that rogue governments and some agents have used it more recently."

"But what did they do to him?" said Tom, in little more than a whisper.

"The Bumola Treatment is essentially a way of changing how someone perceives things. It was used a lot to turn captured agents against their country, so that they would give away crucial information to the enemy. The person administering the treatment usually inserts very thin needles into the agent's brain, and uses a combination of electrical pulses through these needles, whilst bringing the object of perception that they want to make bad in the agents view, in this case you, Harry, to the forefront of their minds. They can do this by talking about them, or by showing the agent photos or videos. It was banned because, apart from being despicably inhumane to change a person's mindset, it was very dangerous, for obvious reasons for people to stick bits of metal into other people's brains. We found the marks on Dougie's scalp which show this is almost certainly what happened, but they are almost undetectable if you're not looking, because the needles are so thin."

"So basically, as far as Dougie's concerned," Danny began, "Harry is...um..."

"The enemy. Yes," finished the Inspector.


	16. Adjustment

Summer faded back into autumn, and Dougie moved back into the bandhouse. The scars faded into white lines across his tattoo and normal skin, and his hair started to grow back. He started tweeting again to the fans, with the same fun and inappropriate memes and comments as before. Tom and Danny were thrilled to have their friend back, and they wrote songs about love, life and friendship late into the night.

One person who wasn't so thrilled though, was Harry. He spent most of his days shut in his room, or walking the streets around where they lived. For the first five weeks after he had come back from hospital, Dougie hadn't been able to sleep at night, knowing that he was in the same house as Harry, and so Harry had been staying with his parents. He found it too hard to listen to the other two bubbling with happy news of progress, and what they had done that day, when his best friend no longer recognised him as the same person. He had come back after that, after hours of persuasion to Dougie (most effectively on Tom's part) that Harry was not a murderous psychopath. He had visited before that, and it was on the strength of the evidence that Harry had done nothing to try to kill him on these trips that Dougie had agreed to have him move back in. They had offered to fit a lock to his door to give him peace of mind, but Dougie didn't want to be behind a locked door again; not after the last time. It still hurt that Dougie tensed every time Harry came into the room and went suddenly silent, but it was progress at least. It was better than the screaming and crying.


	17. A breakthrough

Harry woke up slightly and rolled over to face the wall, pulling the duvet higher up his chest. Lying in the dark, he suddenly stiffened. Something was different, in his room, to how it had been before he had gone to sleep. He kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep, but listening to the sounds of the night around him.

There it was. Breathing, in his room, that wasn't his own. But it was familiar: shallow and short, but definitely...no, it couldn't be. Yes. Definitely Dougie.

Harry turned again, slowly this time, and sat up at the sight that greeted him. Dougie was sitting on his floor, back against the wardrobe, watching him with his knees tucked under his chin, but he raised his head when he saw Harry was awake, standing up as if to leave, before hesitating and leaning back against the wardrobe door, folding his arms across his chest.

Harry faltered, not wanting to be the first to speak and scare Dougie off, not when he was this close, alone, for the first time since...since that day. Eventually, the waiting paid off, when the silence was broken.

"We were friends, right? Best friends?" It was barely a whisper, but clearly audible in the quiet house.

"Yes," Harry breathed, wondering where this was going.

"I watched videos of us. On the internet," Dougie said back, before coughing and looking away, looking embarrassed. "I know it's me and you, but I...I just can't remember it, and then Dan and Tom are always saying how great you are, and telling me stories of when we were together, and I can remember parts of it, but then some things are changed in how I remember them, and you're bad, but I don't know how, and then you're not in real life," he rushed, seeming unable to keep back the flow of words now pouring from him. "I know that that guy played with my mind, but I don't remember that either, and it scares me that all these chunks of my life are missing like that, and I want to change it because it hurts me, in here," he said, gesturing to his chest, "and I can see that I'm hurting you even though I don't mean to and I don't want to, so I thought," he whispered again now, looking straight into Harry's now wide awake eyes, "that maybe we should try to rebuild it. everything we had before all this happened. So yeah...basically."

Harry stared back at him, thrilled that he was speaking this much but simultaneously terrified of scaring him off again, as he shifted and fidgeted where he stood across the room.

"What do you want to do then, Dougs?"

"Umm..." he began, taking a few tentative steps forward as Harry turned on the bedside light, so that Harry saw Dougie was wearing only boxers and an old T-shirt, hair ruffled as though he had just got out of bed after sleep had failed him one more. "I thought," Dougie said, moving closer still, so that he was at the end of the bed, "that we could try doing things that we used to do. Like...Hugs and stuff. If you want to, I mean, I could just go back to bed and..." he stopped as Harry got out of bed to face him, looking suddenly nervous again.

"Dougie, of course I want to make us work again, but I don't want to scare you off," Harry murmured, not wanting to do any more for the moment.

"Well...um...I won't run away," he said shakily, a grin flashing across his face briefly in the semi-darkness.

"Okay then, should I move first?" Harry asked.

Dougie nodded swiftly, stepping forward again a tiny amount. Harry stretched out a hand and put it on Dougie's shoulder, loving the thrill that went through him of being able to touch him again, even if it wasn't in the same way. Dougie tensed too, but after a moment relaxed again, and offered a weak smile in response to Harry's. Taking this as a good sign, Harry stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Dougie's shoulders, breathing him in and savouring the smell that was so uniquely Dougie: like pancakes, sunlight, sugar and sleep all rolled together. He could feel Dougie's heartbeat thundering at breakneck speed under his skin, and could hear his short, shallow breaths as he went rigid under him. Just as he thought that something was wrong, Harry made to pull away, just before he felt Dougie relax slightly, and slide his smaller arms around his waist, sighing as he did so. They stayed like that, while Harry felt Dougie's heartbeat begin to calm down and he held him tight, wanting to tell any tiny part of his best friend that remembered him that he was here for him, always, and would never give up on him.

After what felt like an hour, Dougie pulled back, looking shaky but pleased. Harry bit his lip, trying to stop his eyes from watering at the prospect of getting everything they had had back.

"Thank-you, Harry. And I'm sorry about everything that happened," Dougie finally said, smiling, before sidling past Harry towards the door. Out in the corridor, he turned and, after a moment's hesitation, gave a little wave, before closing his hand and padding back to his room silently.

Harry let out a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding in a 'whoosh', before climbing back into bed and turning out the light again. He grinned in the darkness, feeling suddenly deliriously happy. He felt like he was buzzing with a thousand volts, thrilled at the night's events. He silently thanked any god or spirit which might be listening for the world, just as it was. At that moment, he wouldn't have changed the feeling in his chest for the whole world.


	18. Breakfast

Tom was downstairs, slurping at coffee, when Harry bounded downstairs the next morning. He raised his eyebrows at the drummers change in mood from the past few months.

"Someone looks happy this morning," he said, smiling as Harry beamed in response, but busied himself with making some toast, not wanting to tell what had happened too quickly, so that he could savour it to himself for a while longer.

"So...Harry, what happened that made you so..." he gestured at all of Harry with his free hand, "well...bouncy?"

Harry kept his back turned while he buttered his toast, grinning to himself before answering.

"Dougie came into my room last night. To talk." He turned to see Tom staring at him, mouth open, processing this information before a smile broke out across his face.

"And? What did he want to talk about? How was he?" he asked as Harry finally sat down across the table from him.

"He was nervous, definitely, but he looked like he really wanted to get things sorted. I mean, he was obviously forcing himself to be there without running away or something, but...he asked me if we could be friends again, and said he was sorry. And Tom," he said, taking a breath, "he asked me to hug him!"

"Wooooooow," Tom said, pretending to fall off his chair in slow motion at the news, accidentally spilling his remaining coffee on the floor in the process. He straightened up, both boys laughing. "Seriously though, Haz, that's great. I'm really happy for you. And with that, I'm going to go have a shower. Do you know if the others are up yet?"

"I think I heard someone earlier but I don't know who...might've been you though I suppose..."

"OK, I'll go check then. See you later!" Tom sung, as he dumped his mug in the sink and swung out of the door.


	19. The bet

"Hurry up in there! I wanna have a shave before I'm thirty!" Danny yelled through the closed bathroom door. "You 'an 'ome in, it's not locked," came Dougie's voice, sounding weirdly distorted by the electric toothbrush Danny could hear as he pushed open the door. "Sorry, mate, didn't know it was you in 'ere," said Danny, shutting the door again behind him and trying to find his razor in the pile of junk that always seemed to accumulate around the sink. "Why?" said Dougie, as he ran the toothbrush under the tap. "You only ever nice to me? You don't need to treat me differently anymore, Dan, I'm just as fine as I was before someone hit me over the head and carted me off to the middle of nowhere!" Dougie laughed, looking much more relaxed than normal. Danny was shocked. They never normally talked about what had happened like that, like it didn't matter. It was usually just 'That Day' or 'When It Happened', and they had always been especially careful when Dougie was around. "Yeah, you are better I s'pose. Except with Har..." Danny cut off mid-word, worried he had said something wrong again. "With Harry? Yeah I guess," Dougie said, looking perfectly at ease talking about it for once. "But not since last night Dan! I went into his room and we're going to sort it all out now, so we can be a band again properly, and be friends again! Isn't that great?" Dougie beamed, looking like he had just heard that the Christmas that he thought had been cancelled was now back on. "Yeah mate, that's awesome but did you..." Danny started, before they heard footsteps thundering up the stairs and the approaching shout of... "Are you two gossiping in the bathroom again? Because I swear to God if either of you used up all the hot water..." "Tom! Dougie was just telling me that him and Harry..." "Yep, I know. Harry was just filling me in downstairs. Did you ask him yet?" Tom said to Danny, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Ask me what, Tom? What are you talking about?" "Tom and I have a bit of a bet on you and Harry. Basically, because you don't remember much, well, any of the stuff you and Harry did together we thought that maybe certain people, naming no Harrys, might have tried to take advantage of that and might have told you that before you left, you hand him were...ummm..." Danny coughed at this point and looked hopefully at Dougie, as if expecting him to understand by telepathy. I didn't work; Dougie still looked blankly back at them, with clearly no idea what they were talking about. "He means that we want to know, did Harry say that you were shagging before or not?" put in Tom, looking eagerly over Danny's shoulder. "No! No, he didn't say anything like that!" exclaimed Dougie, now very shocked, as Danny muttered "damn," whilst Tom chortled and did a victory dance around the bathroom, involving lots of raised fingers in the other guitarist's direction, earning himself a scowl as Danny dug into his back pocket and produced a five pound note. "Thank-you!" Tom practically sang, as he took the money from Danny and continued to dance around. "Why would Harry say anything like that? It's not true is it? I mean...we didn't...did we?" Dougie stuttered, looking between the other two. "Now that would be telling, wouldn't it now my friend," said Tom, tapping Dougie on the nose and wrapping an arm around a still slightly disgruntled looking Danny, who pushed him off. Tom laughed again, as Danny stomped off, forgetting his razor completely. "Tom, are you serious? Come on you have to tell me!" Dougie whined, as Tom took him by the shoulders and stared at him, suddenly looking serious. "Now Dougie. I want you to listen very carefully, because I don't want you to get the wrong idea. The bet was just so I could get some easy money off Danny, because I knew that Harry would never say anything like that." "Yeah, but does that mean that he wouldn't say it because it wasn't true, or because he didn't want to say that..." "Dougs," Tom said, now walking them slowly backwards until Dougie felt the carpet of the corridor under his bare feet, "what I really think matters right now is that...I really want a shower! Bye!" he sang, swinging the door shut between them, before Dougie could open his mouth again. 


	20. A question answered

The next week passed like a dream, with the first proper band rehearsals they had had in months, and what with all the happy vibes, they had written some awesome new songs. It wasn't always easy for Dougie, being so close to Harry again, but the rest of them could see that he was trying really, really hard to make it seem normal again, like it was the most natural thing in the world to sit with his feet on Harry's lap during a film. Even though Harry knew that it was still hard, the effort that it took Dougie meant the world to him. There had been one tense moment, when Dougie had beaten Harry on the playstation and Harry had smacked Dougie across the head in punishment, which made him jump out of his seat, pushing Harry away, before he realised and sat back down, wrapping his arms around Harry as he muttered "sorry."

Dougie was enjoying being close to Harry again. Sure, it made him nervous, but he loved being around him. It was like some part of him finally felt like it was home when they were together. The only problem now was that he couldn't stop thinking about what Tom and Danny had said, about their bet. He felt like he ought to ask if there had been anything between them before, because they had been really close, with a bromance splashed all over the internet, but was it real? Harry was a good-looking guy after all, and it was possible that Dougie had liked him in that way...and if the opportunity had arisen...

"What's on your mind, Mr. Deep-in-thought?" said Harry, nudging Dougie's knee in the dimly lit living room. It was night time now, and the other two had gone to bed quarter of an hour ago, after declaring themselves worn out by a hard day of doing nothing, leaving them to flick through the typically awful late-night TV.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing much...just..." Dougie hesitated. It was now or never; he had to find out, and he hadn't been able to get anything out of the other two except giggles.

"Harry," he started again, "I've been meaning to ask you something, but it might be," he coughed and glanced up at Harry's questioning eyes before looking back down at his fraying sleeve, "well, it might be a bit awkward..."

At this Harry scooted across the sofa to put comforting hand on Dougie's arm, squeezing it as Dougie began to play with the hem of his shirt nervously. "Go on then," Harry said, looking concerned at the bassist's nervousness.

"Well, it was something the others said, the other day, the morning after I came into your room in the night. And. They had had a bet, about something they thought you might say. About us," Dougie said, pleading with his voice for Harry to understand. The look of confusion upon the older man's face showed that he had to go further though, and so he took a deep breath and continued. "They said that you might have said that we were more than friends, that there was something else between us, and I can't stop thinking about it and they won't tell me what they meant and I didn't think anyone else would have known, but then I didn't want to ask you because that would have seemed weird because if it wasn't true then I would seem like an idiot, and if it was true then I would still be an idiot because I can't remember..." Dougie trailed off as he ran out of words. If he hadn't been so worried about what Harry's response would be, he might have laughed at the way that Harry had frozen as soon as he understood what 'more than friends' meant.

"Dougs," Harry said in a croaky voice, before clearing his throat and trying again. "Dougie, you and I, we never really...properly...y'know? I mean, there was some stuff when we were drunk, or just on stage, for fun you know? But never serious...I don't know why they would have told you that. It...it never happened."

Dougie looked down at his hands quickly, before meeting eyes with a worried-looking Harry again. After a second of serious eye-contact though, Dougie felt an insane giggle bubbling in his chest, and it burst from his chest, before he quickly clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed at his reaction suddenly.

"What?" said Harry, looking relived and smiling now too.

"Just that," Dougie laughed slightly again, "it's just that I don't know what would have happened if it had been true! I didn't know if they were just mucking about or what!"

"They had a bet though? What did they think I would have said?" asked Harry, leaning back against the sofa and folding his arms across his chest, looking amused.

"Oh, well Danny reckoned that you would say that we had been, y'know, shagging I think it was they said, and Tom thought you wouldn't say anything, so Tom won," Dougie said, having to fight internal laughter at the memory of Tom's ridiculous celebration dance.

"Ahh, poor Danny. Should have known better than to bet against Tom," Harry smiled. He stretched, and rolled his neck left to right before standing. "Well, I'm off to bed now, so I'll see you in the morning I guess. Good-night Dougs!"

"Night," Dougie mumbled at Harry's retreating footsteps. He curled further into the sofa, wondering why he suddenly felt that little bit sadder than before.


	21. And a secret revealed

Danny is snoring lightly, curled up under the duvet, when Harry sneaks into his room, carefully closing the door behind him before striding over to the bed and punching Danny on the arm, making him practically leap off the bed, twisting round with a look of utter horror on his face.

"Bloody hell, Harry! Nearly gave me a heart attack!" Danny hisses, sinking back onto his pillows and rubbing his arm with a resentful look at a now glowering Harry. "What do you want at this time of night anyway?"

"I was just downstairs talking to Dougie," Harry said, before folding his arms and doing some more glaring at a still sleepy-looking Danny.

"That's great, Haz, and we're really happy about that an' all, but it was, like, more than a week ago that started. Not such exciting-waking-me-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night news anymore," Danny yawned, rubbing his eyes as he attempts to bring himself out of sleep-mode.

"No, not just talking about anything, idiot," Harry whispers, making as if to punch Danny again, before the guitarist flinches away, finally sitting up properly and paying attention. "He asked me about something you and Tom had said, the day after we started talking again. About a bet..." Harry trailed off, raising his eyebrows as he waits for Danny to catch on.

"Oh yeah, that! Tom won, an' he made me pay the same day!" Danny grumbled, having the grace to look at least slightly guilty at Harry's next glare.

"Why did you say anything about that to him, when you know it's not bloody true!" Harry asked, successfully jabbing his finger into Danny's arm with the last three words, hard enough to bruise, and getting a certain satisfaction from the yelps it produced.

"Alright, alright, I know I shoudent've! But I swear we didn't say anything to Dougie about how you were to him, and if he knows that nothing ever happened between you two no harm done, right?"

"Does Tom know? Did you tell Tom?" Harry growls, looking only slightly relived.

"Nah, I only told him we should make a bet, I don't think he knows about how you really felt...he thought it was just a laugh because of the memory loss thing..." Danny finished, looking worriedly at Harry, who had now relaxed and sat on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair agitatedly.

"Dan, you know I never meant to tell you, I just got drunk and it came out! You can never tell Tom, and especially never tell Dougie about the feelings I had for him back then! It never came to anything between us, and it's in the past! It would just make things that much harder for him now! Not to mention really awkward..."

"How would it be awkward, if he knows it's not true anymore, that it really is all over?" Danny said, looking confused and shifting closer, trying to see Harry's expression in the dark.

"Oh yeah, so you'd be fine with it if it turned out that a few years back Tom had had a massive crush on you, only you couldn't remember anything you had done with him before last summer, had gone through a phase of thinking he was a psychopath, and then on top of all that, knew that one of your best mates had known all along!" Harry hissed aggressively, clenching his fists in the sheets as if to stop himself from hitting Danny again.

"Dunno," Danny said, shrugging. "I think I would think it was funny, but like a story from when we were kids. It wouldn't matter, y'know?" he said imploringly, trying to calm down the very stressed looking drummer at the end of his bed.

Harry sighed, settling back down, but still looking irritated. "Not many people think how you do, Dan, if they did, the world would be a much simpler place." He got up, moving to go to the door, hand on the doorknob before Danny whispered behind him.

"Harry. It is over, in the past right?"

Harry turned back, hesitating only for a moment before replying.

"Yeah. In the past. Completely. Definitely. See you in the morning, Dan," he said, finally leaving the room, as Danny snuggled back under his duvet, looking contented. He shut the door softly behind him again, and stood in the hallway for a second, breathing deeply.

In the past. It was in the past.


	22. A consideration

Dougie sighed, leaning back into the shower jet and letting the water run down his face. It was only eight in the morning, and he was up. He just wished mornings were later in the day, so that he could sleep for longer, but something had been niggling at the back of his mind, stopping him from going back to sleep.

He took his head out from under the water, taking a deep breath and pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. The hospital had cut nearly all of it off, but it had grown back now to how it was before. He rubbed his eyes a few times, and started drawing patterns in the condensation forming on the glass of the shower stall, spirals and swirls dripping down the glass.

It was last night, after Harry had gone upstairs. He had lain on the sofa for only a minute, before he decided he didn't have the energy to watch yet another program about a group of people who secretly hated each other going to each other's houses for a meal and scoring it deliberately low so that they might get some money themselves. He had got up and began to tiptoe up the stairs to his room; even if Danny was hard to wake up, Tom always said they were too loud coming up when he was trying to sleep. It was as he was going past Danny's room though, that he heard voices, and he normally wouldn't have stopped, because he had always hated eavesdroppers, but it was something in the tone of voice used, when he heard Harry say "Does Tom know?" that made him stop.

_'Long story short,'_ he thought to himself, as he made the biggest spiral into a spiderweb, _'Harry fancied me.'_

It was sort of funny, he supposed, like Danny had said, but strange too. At least Harry didn't know that he knew; he had scampered off to his room as soon as he heard Harry make a move towards the door, so he definitely hadn't been seen.

The strange thing was, that, maybe he might not mind. If Harry had felt that way. He supposed that if he had all his memories, and the ones he did still have weren't twisted like they were, he might have felt differently. If it had been Tom or Danny it would definitely have been weird, because he had that brotherly, long-term bond, but with Harry, however much he might pretend otherwise, things were still all pretty new to him when they were together...they didn't have the same sort of history. Apart from all that though, maybe he didn't mind so much because Harry was bloody fit.

_'Whoaa! Hold up there a second!' _he gasped, realising what he had just thought. He couldn't be attracted to Harry; he wasn't gay, or even bi! Sure there had been phases of experimentation, but no. Just no. He couldn't be thinking like this now.

"Oi, slow poke," Tom called through the door, hammering on it with his fists, "you nearly done?"

"Yeah, just gimmie a minute!" Dougie called back, hastily stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around himself before opening the door to Tom, who almost fell over after having been leaning against it.

"You okay, mate? you look a bit shook up..." Tom said, his all to usual look of concern crossing his features.

"Yeah, I'm fine...just...fine." Tom stopped him as he was about to leave with a hand on his arm, warm and comforting.

"It's not because of the trial is it? You know we'll all be there with you right?" Tom said anxiously.

Crap. He'd managed to forget about that. Two days before the court date. Two days before he saw Jerry Sanders for the first time since those days in that room.

"No, I'll be fine. I always am right?" Dougie smiled weakly, shrugging Tom's hand off, hating how it made his friend look even more scared that he was still hurt, looking like Dougie was a poor wounded animal, looking like he had for the first few days back from hospital. "I'm okay, Tom, don't worry about me. I'll be fine, really."

As he walked back to his room he let out the air in his lungs in a big huff. He was still hurting, but now it was in a good, definitely-getting-better sort of way. He would be fine, so it wasn't a lie exactly. He just didn't know when he could say it in the present tense, and it would be true.


	23. The morning of the trial

It was the day of the trail.

That morning, Dougie got up hours earlier than normal, unable to go back to sleep. He showered with the minimum movement, not looking at himself in the mirror as he dried and dressed in a dark grey suit, and went downstairs.

Tom was the first to come down, and looked surprised to see Dougie already dressed and sitting at the table, staring blankly at a glass of water in front of him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, though the answer was obvious even before the bassist raised his eyes to see who it was, as if he hadn't recognised him from his voice.

"Fine, Tom. I'll be fine," he said in a monotone voice that sounded quite unlike his own.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and Danny arrived in the doorway, wearing the boxers and t-shirt he had slept in.

"Alright? You look awful mate," Danny said, glancing at the two serious looking blondes and popping some bread into the toaster.

"Thanks Dan, but I don't think he needs that kind of thing, today of all days," Tom said, with a reprimanding look at Danny, patting Dougie on the back as he returned to staring at his water.

"Nah, I mean, he looks bad too an' I expected that, but you look proper bad, Tom, like that bloke from that film we were watching after he realises he's been teleported and then got shot and then..."

"Yes, thank-you, Danny," Tom cuts him off, looking offended, and then slightly happier when Dougie snorts, clearly suppressing a laugh.

"Sorry, Tom," Danny says, having the decency to look a little sheepish but still smiling. "Has he eaten anything though? 'E looks dead pale..."

"Have you, Doug?" Tom said, in the tone of an overly-concerned mother, trying to brush back Dougie's hair before Dougie leans back, wrinkling up his nose at the gesture.

"No, just had some water. I fell a bit sick."

Tom immediately gets up and snatches one of the pieces of toast Danny just made, ignoring the protest and dropping it in front of Dougie, who pushes his chair out and makes a face at the offering.

"Come on! You ought to have something before we leave, and we only have an hour! Speaking of which...Danny..."

Danny looks round, crumbs already spread over his face and a smudge of jam on the end of his nose, half a slice of toast in one hand, strawberry jam pot in the other, eyes wide and innocent

"Just..." Tom sighs and gestures at him, "just be ready to go, ok? You have to be presentable by the time we get there, and I know how long you take to get ready..."

An hour later and they are all in the car. Harry drives because he emerged from his room ready to go, and with a determined set to his jaw that the others were too scared to fight with. Danny sits in the passenger seat, partly because Dougie wanted to sit quietly in the back and Tom wanted to be with him, and partly because he forgot that it was a serious day and, out of habit, yelled "Shotgun!" almost as soon as they left the house, sprinting to get to the front seat first.

There are press everywhere outside, with flashing cameras that they try to ignore, Tom pushing a path in the front, Harry pulling Dougie along by his sleeve and Danny bringing up the rear. Once inside the court building though, it is almost eerily quiet, as a smart young lawyer directs them to the courtroom, where they wait as long as is reasonable together, before Dougie has to go and sit at the front, and the others file into the gallery.


	24. In court

_I'm really sorry I haven't updated in a while! I haven't had internet for a couple of days and today I set off on a D of E expedition, so a bit of a silent week from me!_

_Thanks for all the reviews on this, I love love love you all for even bothering to look at something I want to write!_

_On a similar note, I have a new story idea...I think I might give it a go, but I don't know if I should try to finish this one first...hmmmmm_

_Okay I'll leave you to read about the court scene now, bye!_

* * *

"Would the first witness please step up to the stand."

The gravelly voice of the judge echoes around the courtroom, as Inspector Grange stood up in the witness box, wearing his usual plain suit.

"Please state your full name and position in the case."

"I am Inspector Ian Grange, of the North London Missing Persons Department. I was the Inspector in charge of the case, responsible for finding Mr. Poynter."

The lawyer doing the questioning looked young for his profession, with rich brown hair and a square jaw. He had been given the case because he asked the right questions without fail, and this was essential in what had now become one of the biggest cases of the decade.

As time wore on, the Inspector did well. He answers were to the point and he never elaborated more than necessary. The jury sat taking notes, occasionally nodding at an interesting point, or raising their eyebrows at anything that hadn't been mentioned in press reports.

It was the doctor that had examined Dougie when he arrived in hospital next, and then the woman who had found him in the field by the woods and phoned the police. And then it was Dougie's turn. When he was called, he got up, looking slightly shell-shocked and stumbling on the way up to the stand, but otherwise fine. After confirming his identity, and swearing to tell the whole truth, the questioning began.

As he spoke, Dougie's eyes kept flicking around the room. To Tom, Harry and Danny watching him from above, and then to the Inspector, and then to the jury's staring faces, and then, finally, up to the secure box, sectioned off from the rest of the room, where Jerry Sanders was sat. He smirked as he watched Dougie below, enjoying his nervousness and how he needed to grip the side of the stand for support every few minutes, and how he kept nervously scratching his arms, where he knew the scars still marked the skin.

"So, Dougie. A harder question now," the lawyer said, shuffling his papers and looking up. "What did Mr. Sanders do to you once he had secured you in the room?"

Dougie coughed once before he began to explain the hurt. How his wrists had burned from the rope, and his nose had spurted red blood, while his body was turned blue and purple with bruises, and his arms were cut open and his head hurt from being thrown against the floor. How his stomach growled for food which had always tasted sour with fear, and how his chest had ached for home and his ears rang from all the taunting. As the words all spilled out of him, he looked up at the faces of his bandmates. They had never heard the full story; they had had a report from the hospital, but Dougie had never spoken about it, and they had never wanted to make him relive those memories any more than necessary. Now, at the end of the explanation, Tom had shining tear tracks down his cheeks, Harry looked ready to punch something, and Danny was staring blankly ahead, freckles standing out against white skin.

"And we heard from Inspector Grange about some mental trauma inflicted," the young lawyer said, bringing Dougie's attention back to him, "something about the Bumola treatment. We heard a bit from Dr Ashworth about this, but could you elaborate on your experiences for the court?"

Dougie looked up at Harry, who gave a tense nod and relaxed the fists his hands had curled into at his sides.

"I don't remember him doing it, Mr. Sanders I mean," Dougie said, still looking at Harry who returned a steady gaze. "When I was there I just had headaches, all day, and I would have big blank patches in my memory where I couldn't remember anything. Then I started thinking that Harry was dangerous, and I needed to warn Tom and Danny because they didn't know..."

"For the clarity of the court, could you please explain who Harry, Tom and Danny are, Mr. Poynter."

"They're my bandmates, up there," Dougie said, gesturing to where they sat, as Tom hastily wiped his face dry and Danny blinked as if suddenly realising where he was again. "Harry Judd, Tom Fletcher and Danny Jones. They're my best friends, and we've been McFly for ten years now." He looked down at the lawyer, who nodded to continue his previous story of how it had been for him to have his brain changed.

"So I escaped, and I ran away, and I woke up in hospital with Tom and Danny, and I felt like I needed to tell them about something wrong, but then Harry came in and..." he hesitated, looking again at Harry apologetically, because even though Harry had seen his actions, he had never heard from Dougie's own mouth what he had been feeling back then. "I thought he was going to kill me, and the others too. I was terrified of him, and confused because how I felt didn't fit with the way Tom and Danny were acting, so I freaked out."

"And then what? What happened when you moved back in to live with Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Jones?"

"Harry moved out, because I couldn't be with him, but I needed to be home. I used to have nightmares, horrible nightmares about Harry coming back, but every day, every day Tom and Danny always talked to me about Harry. I didn't want to hear, and the first week I was always crying and trying to get away, but they held me down and told me about all the things we'd done together. All our inside jokes that they knew about. All of Harry's life story and how he had joined the band, and showed me videos of us from tour DVDs and Tom's old camera," Dougie could smile at the memories now. It had always been when the three of them were together, and one of the other two would bring up the subject of Harry, which would usually make Dougie run for the door. It was generally Danny who tackled him onto the floor and sat on him and pinned his arms down, so that however much he wriggled he couldn't get away. Then they would tell him everything, shout it at him if he was screaming, and wouldn't let him go until he had calmed down.

"So eventually I believed them. I realised it was just me and I had to get over myself someday, so I asked for Harry to come back home," he smiled up, seeing Harry grinning back at him. he had never been told that it was on Dougie's request that he had been asked back, and not just the other two forcing him. "It gave me a headache to be near him, and sometimes made me feel sick, but eventually I got used to it, and I know that one day we're going to be as close as we were again, even if I can't remember anything about him from before last summer."

"Thank-you, Mr. Poynter. That will be all."


	25. After court

Harry felt like the world was shining around him as everyone stood up at the end. He grabbed Tom and Danny and pulled them into a very awkward three way hug, with the three of them squished between chair rows.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled into Tom's hair as Danny struggled, attempting to wriggle out, emerging very ruffled and red a moment later.

"For what?" Danny panted, straightening his shirt, as Tom thumped Harry on the back as he released him.

"For not giving up on him for me. I didn't realise what you did...so...thanks..." Harry said, hoping that they understood how much he meant it.

"Yeah, you're welcome, Harry. I know you'd do the same if it was one of us though, and it would suck if both of you were stuck moping and lonely forever!"

"Yeah, that an' Tom was worried that he'd have to find a new band," Danny said, grinning and dodging behind Harry to avoid Tom's swipe in retaliation.

"Sure, the band is always top of my priorities for you guys, isn't it?" Tom sighed, then squeaked and started trying to push past the other two to get to the end of the row, almost making Danny fall over into a group of old men in suits.

"Tom! Tom, stop! What are you doing?" Harry said as Tom finally shunted the three of them out of the row and started pulling them towards the door, abandoning his usual politeness and pushing people out of the way.

"Dougie's left; we need to go get him!"

"Oh," Harry said, cottoning on and helping Tom push through the crowd now moving downstairs.

"Dougie? Dougie!" they called, until Tom spotted him by the door, looking a little lost as he always did with lots of people around, and now cringing slightly under the stares of everyone passing, their eyes focusing in on him like the glare of hundreds of spotlights. He spotted them shouting though, and started moving towards them, moving much more slowly than they were because everyone was trying to get a look at him, and he was so much smaller than the other three were.

Finally they got close enough that with a final shunt of an angry woman in a purple coat, they could all pile on top of him, almost pushing him over with the force of the group hug.

"You are the best person in the world, Dougie Poynter," Harry whispered into his ear, holding his friend tightly, and feeling Dougie smile against his neck in response.

"Are you alright, Dougie? Do you want anything? Water, food, to go home..." Tom trailed off.

"I feel a little shaky maybe...but home. Home is definitely a good idea."

"Well, well, well," a new voice drawled above the noise of the now dispersing crowd, "this is a pretty sight isn't it, all united again."

They broke apart, but Harry and Tom both kept an arm around Dougie as he had started trembling so much it was a miracle he wasn't falling over. Jerry Sanders stood in front of them, a policeman on either side of him holding onto his arms tightly, but looking hatefully unconcerned by the whole affair.

"What do you want?" Tom spat, looking scared, but visibly fuming.

"I just love seeing everyone happy again. It's especially nice to see that Dougie has gotten over his feelings for Harry so you can be friends again," he said, to the whole band, but then turned to look Harry right in the eye before saying, "but I'm not sure that poor Harry has gotten over Dougie..."

Harry suddenly launched himself forward, leaving Dougie to lean on only Tom, and before the policemen could stop him, he had sent Jerry Sanders flying backwards with a punch that knocked his head right back.

"C'mon mate," Danny said, tugging Harry away as he considered going in for another punch, "C'mon Harry we need to be getting home..."

And so, leaving the policemen and a gathering crowd to sort out Sanders, they left: Danny tugging a still glowering Harry, and Tom supporting a Dougie that looked about five seconds from fainting. And they got into the car, and Tom drove them home.

On the way, Harry started to feel a bit guilty; after all, it had been a bit rash to punch someone in front of all those people, even if he didn't think he could have done anything else at the time.

"Guys, you don't think that what I did was a bit uncalled for, do you?" said Harry, sitting in the back with Danny, who grinned back.

"Nah, mate. I would've gone after him myself if you hadn't!"

"What about you two? D'you think it was a bad idea?" Harry said, leaning forward so his head was between their seats. Tom glanced at him for a second, looking unsure, before turning back to the road.

"Well, it almost certainly was a bad idea...I mean...it's not so good for our image as the victims in this case, but..." Tom was definitely grinning now, "but I can't say that I blame you, or that I would've stopped you. He definitely deserved it."

"And it's nice to see him hurt at least a bit, for a change," Dougie said, still sounding weak. "Sorry I went all floppy and feeble on you, it was just like..." he paused, chewing his lip while he thought of the right analogy, "it was like he was a dementor and I had all the worst fears and no wand to protect myself," he said slowly, looking faintly embarrassed at using the Harry Potter analogy.

"Hey, we'll always be there with our wands to save you," Harry said, nudging Dougie gently and smiling at him, enjoying the cheesiness.

Danny snorted behind them, making Harry looks round to see him trying unsuccessfully to suppress chuckles.

"What? What's so funny, Dan?"

"Just," He broke off into sniggering again, "wands."

Harry looked at Tom, confusion clear on both their face, but Dougie had started giggling too.

"He means wand like a euphemism...for..." Dougie trailed off, waggling his eyebrows in a mock-seductive manner before laughing again with Danny.

"Oh my God, Harry. We live with five-year-olds," Tom moaned, finally getting it and shaking his head in exasperation, before noticing that Harry had realised what the others were saying, and was now laughing too.


	26. Epilogue

**DON'T READ IF YOU WANT TO HAVE YOUR OWN ENDING!**

**-EPILOGUE-**

Sanders was convicted, and went to prison for 21 years without bail, though this was later extended after other charges were brought forward and again after an escape attempt (which was very nearly successful).

All the McFly boys recovered, though Dougie still had nightmares that woke him every night for months. They did their first televised interview together four weeks after the trial day, and so many galaxy defenders turned up to see them that they couldn't get away from the studios for six hours. They didn't mind though, because it had been so long since they had seen each other, and Dougie wanted to go out and sign everything he could for them, which gave him bad hand cramp, and then by the fifth hour a blister on one of his fingers.

They wrote an album together and toured it that same summer, and it reached number one in the worldwide charts, with even more people interested in McFly because of what happened. Danny used to joke that it had all been staged to increase publicity and sales, but stopped when some journalists took him seriously.

Dougie got his tattoo re-done over the scars on the same day he got taken, but a year later. The skin was still slightly raised, but he said it was a good reminder of how close he had come to losing it all, and that it made him appreciate everything he had every time he felt them, which was often.

And as for Harry and Dougie? Well, Dougie realised that, because he got to see Harry like it was for the first time again, he did, after all, have a little bit of a crush. Tom found out eventually (as he always did) and made another bet with Danny about what would happen between them. That got Danny excited and he told Harry that he thought he might still have a shot, if he felt the same as he had done all those years ago. Which of course he did.

So Harry asked Dougie out, and he said yes, even though it scared him how his new life was turning out. The rules were that it was kept casual, and they should always be, first and foremost, friends more than lovers. They were good for each other, Tom and Danny agreed, even though it was strange to have a couple in the band. The public didn't know; they had enough to be dealing with without confirming any suspicions that arose. Did they last? Well... that would be telling... ;)


End file.
